


Passengers

by Lasgalendil



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Lesbians in Space, never underestimate the power of a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasgalendil/pseuds/Lasgalendil
Summary: Time and Relative Dimension in Space.It means life.It means love.…and sometimes, sometimes for a girl with stars in her soul, it means leaving. Even the ones we don’t wish to let go.





	Passengers

She was the girl with the star in her eye.  
  
A defect, yes. But one shaped like a star. She’d never liked it. She was going to get it fixed. She was going to leave, to leave this place, get the degree she needed to go, to travel, to never come back, to keep seeking, searching for a place to call home.  
  
She lived in the liminal spaces where no one was. She found the puddle that didn’t disappear, even when it hadn’t rained for over a week. She looked in the waters and saw the sky, saw the star in her eye, and she couldn’t stop searching. The water called. Even a dance and a snog and a fuck, her first one-night stand—her one true love, perhaps—couldn’t keep her tethered. But she came back, she always came back to where the waters called. Not yet, she thought, not yet. She would leave, yes, leave soon, but not yet.  
  
I promise.  
  
Then the world and life and breath and space and time were ripped from her. She ceased to be. She became. The universe warped around her in gravity and spacetime and electromagnetic waves and seismic pulses on solar flares and she wasn’t human, hadn’t been, would never be again. The cosmos called. All of time. All of space. Everywhen. And she would leave, yes, leave soon, but not yet.  
  
I promise.  
  
The girl with the star in her eye chased the girl with curiosity in her soul. She chased her across the city, the campus, the small, fragile sphere hurtling around this dim-lit star, chased her through  the eons and lightyears to a puddle on a planet under a strange sky in a galaxy far, far away…  
  
She chased her through fire, extermination, enveloped the Dalek and it had become, all it could ever be, until the girl and her Doctor looked, really looked, and saw the stars in her eyes.  
  
Come with me, said the girl with a star in her eye. Come with me.  
  
I can’t, said the Curious Girl. You have to let me go. You’re dead. Hello. You scared me.  
  
Come with me, she said, come with me, and she showed the Curious Girl the vast beauty and cold emptiness of space and time, the stars born and dying and collapsing to dense dust to be born again in explosions and pulsars and black holes bending light and gravity and time itself, the universe that had been, would be, would somewhen cease to exist, a taste of the multiverse, infinity, and singularity. She stretched out her hand, held firm, but the Curious Girl let go.  
  
And that is the truth she had yet to be told: A passenger can refuse to board. She can forfeit her ticket. Could choose instead the next train.  
  
All her life—all her death—the girl with the stars in her soul had been looking for one thing: someone who was looking for her. But the Curious Girl had a life on earth, a foster-mother, a shoe box full of photographs, a job serving chips, a wonderfully fat crush with a face like a model with the brains and the talking and much more besides and their futures ahead, and a tutor, her tutor, this Doctor with the magic box.  
  
Time and Relative Dimension in Space.  
  
It means life.  
  
It means love.  
  
…and sometimes, sometimes for a girl with stars in her soul, it means leaving. Even the ones we don’t wish to let go.  
  



End file.
